


Bad Partnership

by PolarGrizz47



Series: Uncharted Prompts [29]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Implied Relationships, M/M, Major Wounds, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:43:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: Written for the prompt: Nate/Sam "Where did they shoot you!? Where did they sh-- Oh... Oh, god... Oh please no..."





	

They had months to kill before Rafe got enough sensible contacts to sneak them into the high security, Panamanian prison. Short on money and looking for a quick job, Sam and Nathan found themselves thieving alongside an unknown man. Usually, they did extensive research on their partners, and their first clue _should’ve_ been the fact that Sullivan wasn’t aware of this newcomer.

All the strange behavior the man had exhibited became suddenly very clear to Sam as the guns were drawn, the three of them in a standoff with the stolen relic in Nathan’s hands and the pistol in Sam’s.

He was _trying_ to backstab them - cut them out of the steal. Sam would’ve been more concerned about the money - _if_ the weapon in the man’s hands was pointed _away_ from Nathan. But his brother’s blue eyes were staring into the barrel with ample amounts of fear and shock, his usual sarcastic charm falling flat as they all stood there, breaths baited.

“Hey,” Sam finally managed, voice low and nervous, “Hey, c’mon - we had _a deal_ ,” He hisses, keeping his gun trained on the man. “Put down your gun, and we’ll - we’ll call this even.” His gaze flickered over to Nathan, throat bobbing as he finished, “Take our share and go. That’s all we want. No _uh_ \- no need for bloodshed, got it?”

Sam wanted nothing more than to put himself in front of Nathan, to keep his little brother _safe_ \- but he had a gun, _he_ had the upper hand here. To prove his point, he clicked the safety off and clenched his jaw, trying to pull off the poker face Charlie had taught them.

The man was staring hard at Nathan, at the strange relic in his hands, the gun never lowering. “The deal’s off,” He snarled, shaking where he stood, “ _I_ found the information,“ His voice was rabid, crazed like a man _possessed_. “I just needed the skill to get the relic - now hand it over -”

“I did all the work for this!” Nathan stammered, his voice surprisingly angry despite their situation.

Sam shook his head at his brother, holding up a hand to quell the rage brewing between them both. The money didn’t matter - what mattered was getting out of here _before_ somebody caught a bullet.

“Alright - take it easy,” Sam started, jerking his chin towards Nathan, “You want the relic, you can have it. Just let us walk, alright?”

Their traitorous partner seemed to consider the eldest Drake’s words, but his silence draped over them like an unsettling cloak, obscuring their options. Sam could hear his heart thudding in his ears, adrenaline ready to lurch into a full capacity for his brother’s safety. His finger slid over the trigger, preparing himself for the worst.

Nathan meets his gaze, concern _nearly_ audible between the two them. His hands are quivering, fingers grasping tight at the relic. There was nothing he could do as bargaining with a gun so close to his face seemed like a very bad idea.

“I… I can’t risk it,” The man muttered under his breath, hysterically talking to himself. “You’ll come after it - you _know_ about it.” The gun was jerked higher, Nathan taking a step back

“No, _no_ \- hey -” Sam sputtered, horror rising through him as his own arm lifted up, finger already pulling the trigger instinctually in an attempt to save his loved one.

Two shots rang out in their dimly lit area, punctuated by the clang of the relic falling against the cobbled street.

Sam’s hands were shaking, barely able to secure his weapon as he gazed out at the stranger’s body, the man’s head now nearly unrecognizable. The blood stank and the sounds surely would draw attention.

“Nathan - we gotta get outta here,” He breathed, panic flowing through him freely as he tore his eyes away from the blasted remains of their partner’s skull. Dark eyes flicker to Nathan, and for a moment he can’t move - he can hardly breathe.

There’s blood. A _lot_ of blood.

He lurched forwards frantically, falling to his knees beside his brother’s slumped form. “Nathan - where did he shoot you!?” Unsteady hands gently push the younger man onto his back as he repeated, “Where did he sh -”

The answer to his question is obvious, the blood is freely flowing and Nathan isn’t _moving_.

“Oh…” Sam has to swallow, try and steel his cracking voice while he fits one hand around his younger brother’s throat, trying to stem the flow of blood. “Oh, god, Nathan,” He whispers, eyes wide as he holds tight to the wound.

His hands are warmed and slickened by the blood, his fingertips brushing against the inside structures of Nathan’s throat. A few wet, gurgling gasps escape Nathan, his eyes half-lidded and expression blank as he stares out into space. He’s not struggling, he’s drowning in his own blood - he’s _dying_.

For a few precious seconds, Sam _panics_. He watches Nathan gargle there against the dirty and damp ground, mouth red and teeth bloodied. Sam’s hands do _nothing_ to stop the blood pumped out by Nathan’s stuttering heartbeat. His brother’s body was exsanguinating itself to death.

And Sam was helpless but to watch.

“Nathan - _Nathan_ , can you hear me? J-Just keep breathing, alright?” Sam tried, fumbling with one bloodied hand into his pocket, reaching for his cell. “I’m calling for help - just - _please_ , god,” He chokes, struggling to type in the numbers with such bloodied fingers.

The phone rings, an operator answering, already demanding information. Sam's mouth couldn't quite work, his eyes focused on his little brother's eyes. He could've sworn that he saw some sort of emotion in those pleasant blue eyes - a flicker of _fear_.

He watches while Nathan’s gaze slowly dulls, that curious shine replaced by a dreary emptiness. “Nathan?” He whispers, unbelieving. The body is too still, the suffocating gasps had faded and the weak rises of his chest were gone.

Gone.

Nathan was _gone_ …

“Please,” Sam begs, the phone slipping from his hand as he strokes over Nathan’s brow, smearing it with red. “Nathan? Please… _no_ …. No.” The tears well up easily as he scoops his baby brother’s body closer to his chest, holding him near and dear. “ _No_ ,” He begs aimlessly, rocking on his knees as he presses his face into the bloodied tufts of Nathan’s hair.

He’s too shocked to sob, but the tears roll silently down his cheeks as he shakes his head. Sam muttered prayers the nuns had taught him under his breath, punctuated by gasping pleas of _‘no’._ In the distance sirens wail, but it was already _too late._

**Author's Note:**

> ;w; Sorry Nathan.


End file.
